


no heart, no soul there

by agntsanvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Sara and Lena brotp, assassin!lena, lowkey Lena and Nyssa brotp, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2018-11-12 03:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11153622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agntsanvers/pseuds/agntsanvers
Summary: Lena's sent in to kill her mother. simple. at least, it would be if her annoying blonde neighbor with the cape would just leave. her. alone.orI wanted to write an assassin!Lena au so I did.





	1. Never let Sara Lance decorate your apartment

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an excuse for me to be ridiculous.  
> It's in 2nd POV cause I want to get better at it

It’s been almost seven years since you’ve been in National City. Since you were run out of the city. Since you found the League. Or they found you.

Nyssa sent you on this mission alone. Solo missions are rare, but she knew she could send no one else. Before you left, she had warned you to stay impartial, to not let your emotions control you.

Your feelings, no matter how strong, have no place in this mission. You know that. You  _know._

You ignore the fire in the pit of your stomach every time you look at the picture of your target. 

* * *

 

The target is your mother. Adopted mother. The monster that raised you. Her dealings with Cadmus could not be ignored by the League any longer. (Honestly you were unsure why they were being ignored in the first place.)

You were to cut off the head of the serpent. Nyssa would send a team to destroy the body before any more heads could sprout.

It was only a matter of finding your mother. She has resources to keep her hidden, but none like the ones you have to find her.

Your plane touches down at National City Airport at dawn. A car waits for you on the runway. A sensible Honda Civic. Inconspicuous. A far cry from the cars you drove when you last lived in National City. No Corvettes or Ferraris this time.

You sigh as you climb into the driver’s seat. The cloth seats scratch against your skin. There are definitely things you missed about your old life.

Nyssa set up a safe house in the city for you. You follow the directions in your phone and pull up to a small apartment building. It doesn’t look too bad. You had friends in college who lived in buildings like this.

You’re in apartment 4D. You don’t know what to expect from the apartment. Sara had been in charge of decorating. She had been in Central City when you received your assignment and _jumped_ at the chance to come to National City. You could admit you were a bit uneasy about Sara being anywhere near the place you would be living for the foreseeable future. Hopefully she had reigned herself in.

Parking in the designated spot, you grab your duffle from the back seat. The front door to the apartment doesn’t have any real security measures. You frown at the oversight and make a mental note to talk to your landlord. Maybe they’d let you work on the security yourself.

The door opens easily under your key. A quiet alarm beeps until you press your palm to the hidden scanner next to the door. At least Sara hadn’t forgotten to outfit your apartment with the proper security measures.

You place your bag on the ground and not a second later you hear someone knock. You palm the small blade you keep strapped to your ankle before moving to the door. You open it an inch. A tall blonde stands in the hallway, her hands fidgeting with her glasses.

“Hello?”

“Hi! I’m Kara. I live across the way in 4C,” She points behind her. “I, uh, I heard an alarm go off in here. We don’t – we don’t have security alarms in this building so I thought I’d come over and check that everything was okay.”

The alarm was designed to be almost silent. You only heard it because you were listening for it. How had this woman heard it? “Thank you for the concern, Kara. Everything’s fine, it was just a phone alarm.”

“Oh. Yeah. Course it was, sorry!”

She continued to stand in the hallway, looking at you expectantly. Is there something you’re supposed to be doing? Is there weird neighbor protocol you aren’t aware of?

“Um…have a good day, Kara.”

You start to close your door when Kara finally responds. You wonder why she had frozen. “Oh! I also wanted to welcome you to the building! I’ve never seen you around, so I’m assuming you’re new. There were a bunch of people here a few weeks ago, but no one really moved in so I was wondering when someone would arrive. Ms. Butler used to live in that apartment, but her kids decided to put her in a home. Eliot in 4E is Ms. Butler’s age, but he doesn’t have any kids. I check in on him every so often. Jeremy lives in 4A. He’s a professional gamer or something. I make sure to drop off food sometimes just to make sure he actually eats. And in 4B there’s the cutest little family with two adorable kids. And corgis! They let me pet them sometimes. It’s really – “

You cut in, blinking away your confusion at the influx of information. “I’m so sorry, but I actually have to go. My, um, phone alarm was for medicine I have to take, and if I wait much longer I’m going to forget to take them. So. Have a good day.”

“Sorry for keeping you. Talk to you later!”

Hopefully no time soon. You do not understand how Kara could talk so much to a person she just met.

You shut your door and return your knife to its sheath. Moving further into the apartment, you look around in slight approval. So far, the space seems normal. It’s more Sara’s style than your own, but you like the homey feel the worn fabric couch and rustic wood furniture provide. You move deeper into the apartment and find little gag gifts Sara left. A small Batgirl doll sits on the table. You can almost hear Sara telling you that ‘it’s an _action figure_ ’. A poster of Superman hangs on the right wall of your living room, and you’re pleased to find the sight of him no longer sends your stomach into knots.

The bedroom is what you’re most worried about. As you walk into it, you see that you were right to be worried. There were – you quickly counted them – fifteen dildos scattered around your bed, along with confetti and a sign that says ‘have fun’ in large rainbow letters. You facepalm and pull our your burner phone. Sara should still have hers. She and Shrike should still be on their mission in Paris.

7:00am

**Lena**

 What the fuck is this [dildo explosion.jpeg]

**Sara**

 I didn’t want you to get bored :P

              

**Lena**

 im just surprised you didn’t do more

**Sara**

 …

I behaved myself

**Lena**

 I hate to think what misbehaving looks like

**Sara**

um

yup

Anywho gtg…….assassin things to do and all that

Have fun at ur apartment

**Lena**

 youre acting strangely

thank you for decorating for me.

 

7:45am

**Lena**

SARA

THE FUCK

[in the fridge???.jpeg]

I take back my thanks.

youre banned from my apartment

After hiding all twenty dildos in your closet, you finish unpacking, ignoring the various laughing and eggplant emojis Sara sends you.


	2. Glasses aren't a great disguise, Karen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I updated this, to say the least...but hope you enjoy this?

The landlord didn't take much convincing before letting you install better security on the front doors. Various electronics and tools litter the ground of the entryway. Your hair is swept into a loose ponytail to keep it out of the way. Even though you are paying as a ”normal” person, you don't own many clothes practical for physical labor. The best you could scrounge from your closet was a pair of skinny jeans and a white ribbed tank top.

You have the sneaking suspicion that the tank top is one of the reasons you've been allowed to renovate. Especially if you take into account the way he keeps peeking out his blinds to stare at you. Idly, you wonder if Nyssa would mind you killing one extra person on this mission. The League has never been strict about collateral damage before.

“Hey neighbor,” a friendly voice says behind you. 

It's Karen, the woman who lives across the hall from you. You grunt around the screws held between your lips.

“I'm Kara, from 4C?” she seems to take your non answer as confusion.

It's Kara, not Karen. You had been so proud of yourself for remembering her name.

Nodding, you take one of the screws from your mouth and begin mounting a control box to the wall. “I remember you,” you mumble. “Thanks for checking in on me that first day. It's nice to have neighbors who care.” 

No it's not. Nosy neighbors make everything harder. You glance at Kara and see an irate looking redhead standing behind her. You finish screwing in the control box. Kara just stands there and smiles at you. 

“Your friend looks like she's in a rush.”

Kara glances back, a contrite look coming over her face. “That's my sister! She hid her girlfriend's anniversary gift in my apartment and she wants to pick it up, even though there's like five hours until the date.”

“Ok.” Kara overshares so much. You pick up a length of wire and begin running it around the door that Kara isn't standing in. 

“Well, we better get going.”

You nod and lazily wave. The women move inside and you can just hear Kara say, “I don't think she likes me very much.”

You try to contain your snort of laughter.

You sleep easier with the security system installed. It notifies you every time someone enters or exits the building. You do notice that it sometimes misses Kara leaving. She enters the building more than she exits. If the issue spreads to other residents, you'll have to reboot the system and find whatever issue in the coding is causing the blindspot. 

* * *

It's almost a month before you find a solid lead on Cadmus. You notice a pattern in seemingly random alien abductions that have been ruled unconnected. The abduction sites move in a golden spiral around the city, starting in the city center.

The most recent abduction was from a park a mile from the city center.if your calculations are correct, the next alien would be taken from the docks. 

You spend a day wandering around the area, familiarizing yourself with potential getaway routes and the best places to set up a stakeout.  

While you eat lunch, you see Supergirl rescue a cat from a tree. It's your first time seeing the hero up close. When you imagined coming face to face with the woman, you had always thought of something more dramatic. The owner of the fuzzball is standing a few feet in front of you, so Supergirl floats closer. 

She makes eye contact with you. Shit. It's your bubbly neighbor. Of all the people Supergirl could be, it had to be Kara? At least that explains her mysterious disappearances on your security tapes.

You manage to keep a straight face. Kara does not. Her eyebrows shoot up and she begins to say something. She catches herself and hands the little girl her kitten before shooting into the sky.

Of all the places….

Lena: Sara.

Sara: Lena

Lena: do you know who my 

neighbor is?

Sara: aw, did you finally 

make a friend?

Lena: it's supergirl

Sara: well shit

Lena: yeah! What do I do??

Sara: ignore her?

Lena: I've tried that, she wont 

stop talking to me

Sara: then get close to her

Lena:??

Sara: make her think the

sexy assassin couldn't 

possibly be you

Lena: no! Move me!

Sara: wouldn't that be 

more suspicious

Lena: no

Lena: ……

Lena: ugh fine

Sara: make friends!

Lena: :(


	3. Kryptonians aren't bad company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena makes a friend. Her worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typed this on my phone, so there may be some mistakes!

When you get home, you stand in the hallway, staring at Kara’s door. You don't want to get closer to her. She is bouncy and happy and everything you aren't. Why couldn't Sara have just approved your request to move?

You finally go inside, irritation shortening your movements and causing you to slam the door. Rolling out your yoga mat, you move through a variety of poses until the turmoil in your brain has calmed slightly. You meditate until the sun goes down. It takes you that long to figure out a plan to make Kara your… friend. 

You frown at the thought.  You're going to have to  _ apologize.  _

Luckily, it's the weekend. You spend the next morning making cookies. People like those, right? The first three batches burn, even though you follow the directions perfectly. The fourth batch turns out perfectly. Which is good, because you were running out of ingredients. You eat three cookies in celebration before moving the rest to a plate.

You don't want to give the cookies up. They're delicious and it took you  _ so long _ to get them right. But you have to “get closer" to your neighbor. Stupid Sara. Stupid Kara for being stupid Supergirl. Maybe she'll like wine instead? 

You've met her twice and already know that's not the case. You grab the plate and shuffle over to Kara's door.

You knock, letting a sufficiently friendly smile stretch across your face. Look friendly, but not too open, a Luthor rule drilled into you head. 

Kara answers the door quickly, throwing it all the way open. She's trusting. Or confident, you suppose. She's practically invincible. You'd open doors like that if you were too. 

“Hello, Kara from 4C,” you say.

“Hi.” Her blinding smile dims. “I just realized I never got your name.”

If you had it your way, you'd keep it that way.

“Lena. Jones. Lena Jones.” Perfectly normal name for a perfectly normal person. “I wanted to apologize for how I've acted towards you. There's been a lot going on and I wrongly took it out on you. I made you cookies.”

You thrust the plate forward, cookies sliding dangerously to one side of the plate. Kara saves them before any fall to the floor. 

“Oh golly, it's no problem, Lena. I'm sorry things have been hard lately.”

Did she one up your apology just then? And wow, your name sounds good when she says it. Nope. That thought is going in the vault and never coming out again. Kara's still talking.

“- you made me cookies, so all is forgiven.”

You smile again, just big enough to seem genuine. “I am sorry, though. Thank you for being so understanding. I hope you enjoy the cookies. Goodbye.” You spin away from her. Your door, safety, is in reach.

“Um, wait. Lena? Would you like to come in? We could share the cookies and talk?” 

Really, it's the draw of the cookies that has you turning around. Kara's face is flushed for some reason. You wonder if it's hotter in the hall than you thought. “Sure. That would be...fun.”

Kara does a happy wiggle and ushers you inside. Her apartment is cute. It's laid out similarly to yours, but it looks lived in. It's cluttered with mismatched furniture and half-finished paintings. 

“You paint?” The question springs involuntarily from your mouth. 

“It's a hobby,” Kara answers around a mouthful of cookie. “I don't have a lot of time for it now.”

“That's too bad. You're clearly gifted. What's this one of?” 

You motion to a canvas awash in red and orange, a spread muted silver in the background becoming a city the more you look at it.

“Oh, that? That, um, that's just some, uh, experimental work I did a while ago.”

“It's wonderful.”

Kara's chest puffs out and her head tilts into a position reminiscent of her Supergirl pose. She's proud of it. You doubt it is simply “experimental". It clearly has value to her. 

“Thank you so much!”

You both grab a cookie, quietly eating on her obscenely comfortable couch. Kara is already on her way to catching up to the number of cookies you have eaten today. The silence is pleasant. It's almost  _ nice,  _ sitting with Kara like this. 

It doesn't last. Kara asks a few questions about your life, and all your answers are lies. You lead the conversation to her life. You know how to ask questions that get people talking, not that it is very difficult with Kara. You learn about her without letting her learn about you, but she'll feel that the conversation was equal.

Kara went to college near Midvale, her hometown. She's a print reporter at Catco. You think she should have her own news show. Her voice is pleasant and animated, and she's great at talking. That may endanger the whole Supergirl thing, though. You'll have to settle for listening to her now.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, citing an early morning as your reason for leaving. You take your plate back with you. Between the two of you, the cookies hadn't had a chance. Kara ate the majority of them, but she had given you the last one. The girl is just too damn nice.

“Thank you for coming over, Lena. This was fun.” She leads you to the door with a hand on the small of your back. 

“It was.” You're surprised to find you're not lying. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Kara giggles. “You talk so formal. I like it.”

The spot on your back where she touched you is still warm by the time you've washed and put away the cookie plate. You figure it is a Kryptonian thing. 

* * *

You need to do recon at the docks, identify the target and find where they may be taken from.

You lay your suit out on the bed. You're glad you brought the “Super-proof" version, as Sara calls it. When the League discovered the extent of Kryptonian abilities, they developed certain precautions. You developed a lead thread that can be sewn into suits so that x-ray vision cant penetrate them. The good thing about heading a project focused on clothing was that you were allowed to design your own suit. 

You got rid of the cowl most League assassins wore. You're dramatic, but not cowl-dramatic. Instead, you crafted a mask/helmet hybrid out of steel and kevlar that looked like a dragon head. It covers your entire face and makes you look badass. (If you say so yourself.)

The rest of your outfit follows the same theme. Your suit is skin tight and looks scaled. You've found that the pattern actually helps with aerodynamics. You had been tempted to add wings somewhere, but Sara talked you out of it. You're happy that she stopped you now. Your uniform can only be  _ so  _ cool before it becomes a distraction. 

You pull on the suit and strap your knives and bow on. Leaving through your bedroom window, you race down the fire escape to where your motorcycle waits. 

It sits against the building, camouflaged by two pallets of wood. You straddle it and twist the key, relishing in the way it roars beneath you. 

The docks are still busy, even when the rest of the city is quiet. Workers move like ants to and from ships. You count at least five aliens working. There are probably more. Their numbers mean you won't be able to get too close without losing sight of at least on potential target. 

You have four days to figure out an efficient way to keep eyes on all of them.

You're in the middle of mapping blind spots when you hear it. The slight flutter of a cape. You look over your shoulder and see Kara hovering behind you, trying to look intimidating. You've seen her stuff her mouth full of cookies until she looks like a chipmunk. She's unable to be intimidating. 

“Hello, Wondergirl,” you say, turning back to your recon.

“I-it's Supergirl.  _ Super.  _ Not - not Supergirl. I-I mean not  _ Wonder _ girl.” 

You don't think she's used to people not reacting to her. She's flustered. 

“You don't sound so sure. Why don't you go figure out your name and leave me to my business?” 

“No!” You feel her float closer. “What is the League doing in National City?”

“That's a good question, Wondergirl.” You make a show of looking around. “Right now, the League appears to be sitting on a roof. The real question is, how do you know I'm from the League of Assassins?”

“I have sources,” she says indignantly.

“Don't we all. Now, unless you're going to do something to me for just sitting on a roof, how about you go foil some real crime? Rescue a damsel in distress. Pull a kitten from a tree.”

Kara huffs. You imagine she's pouting. “I'll figure out what you're up to soon enough. Then we can have a proper conversation.” 

“‘Course you will.” You raise your hand and wiggle your fingers in a lazy wave. “ Bye bye now. You have a wonderful, oh excuse me,  _ super  _ night.” 

She flies away, the force of her take off making you sway slightly.

Oh, messing with Kara is going to be fun, you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow another chapter after letting this thing sit for a year, let's see how long I can keep this up
> 
> Tell me what you thought about this chapter!


	4. How to comfort a mourning superhero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written on my phone again, sorry for any mistakes
> 
> Edit: fixed a small typo, thanks sausage_dog for pointing it out!

The next morning, you open your door and find a paper bag with a cinnamon roll in it from some place called Noonans. A sticky note is stuck to to the front. ‘Got this for you to hopefully make your early morning better. -K’ 

The pastry is still warm, and a quick Google search shows that the bakery is all the way in the city center. The roll  _ should  _ be cold. Honestly, you don't know how Kara hides her powers. 

You can admit, as you bite into the sweet bread, that there may be perks to having a superhero as a neighbor.

You weren't lying to Kara when you said you had an early night. Well, you had been, but after your recon last night, you scheduled an early meeting. It's barely seven thirty and you're already leaving your apartment. 

You had noticed that most of the shipping containers were owned by a company called Torque Shipping. It's a front for Luthorcorp, and most likely Cadmus. A little extra hacking had placed you on the CEO’s calendar. Some hack named Mike Matthews. 

He has no idea you're coming. He won't know until he arrives in the office to find you waiting for him and your name neatly on his calendar. You want him off balance. The uneasier he is, the more he'll slip. He's nothing but a puppet for your mother, but if you tug the right strings, you'll find the puppeteer. 

You're dressed to intimidate. Using fashion as a shield, femininity as a weapon. Not that you don't have real weapons on you. You wear a blood red dress and black pumps. The dress is just revealing enough to catch his attention. You shudder at the thought. 

You drive the civic into the business district. Torque’s offices are in one of the smaller highrise. The company is too small to need an entire building. It barely needs the floor space it has. There are a few people around when you arrive, sitting in cubicles and typing up documents for fake sales. You wonder if they know about the nature of the company. 

A perky redhead smiles at you from the reception desk across from the elevators. Her smile isn't as nice as Kara's. “Hi there! How can I help you?”

You tilt your head, slipping into a persona Sara would be proud of.  “Hello,” you say, your voice smooth and deep. You lean on the desk, letting the dress’ low neckline catch the woman’s attention. “I'm Lena Jones, CFO of Crown Enterprise. And who might you be?”

You give her a slow once over. She blushes and twirls a piece of her hair. 

“Um, I-I'm Jane,” she giggles. 

“ _ Pleasure. _ ” Sara always did say you have “bedroom eyes,’ whatever that means, so you give Jane your best sultry look. Her blush only darkens, so you think Sara may have been right.  “I hate to be a bother, but I have an appointment with Mr. Matthews this morning. I've arrived early. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to keep me company, darling?” 

She bites at the end of her pen. “I'd be happy to keep you company, Ms. Jones.” she pauses, the rest of what you said finally registering. “Did you say you have an appointment with Mr.Matthews this morning?”

“Yes, dear. Starting at eight forty-five. My assistant called on Friday.”

Her brows furrow as she checks her computer. “Oh, yes. Here you are. Sorry for being a bit scatterbrained.”

“It's no problem, darling. Why don't you tell me about yourself?” 

It's easy to get her to ramble. She answers your leading questions openly, and you come to the conclusion that she doesn't know that Torque is a fake company. She does mention a strict looking woman who often drops by. Jane describes her as “intimidating and kinda evil.” It can only be your mother. 

Mr. Matthews enters in a whirlwind of cologne and aftershave. An overscented overkill. “Hey, hotstuff. What's on my agenda today, girl?” 

He doesn't even seem to register your presence. Jane stiffens, some of the light leaving her eyes. “You have a meeting right now, sir.” Her voice is flat. 

“What?” he finally looks at you. “Who are you?”

“Lena Jones, Mr. Matthews. CFO of Crown Enterprise. This meeting was arranged last week. We can cancel, though. There are other companies I can work with.” 

Matthews puts on a fake smile. “Of course! Crown Enterprise. I've had a long morning and the meeting slipped my mind. Luckily I prepared for it last week, so no need to cancel. Torque Shipping will take care of you. If you'll follow me.” He spins on his heel and heads towards his office. 

You take a moment before following him and look at Jane. “Thank you for the wonderful conversation, darling.” 

As you catch up to Mike, you find yourself wishing this wasn't a cover. You'd be able to get Jane a better job. 

The man leads you into the office of a frat boy. There is sports paraphernalia scattered around the office, and some sort of school flag hung on the wall. Your lip curls at the horrendous decorating.

“So, what can Torque help you with?” 

“Well, Mr. Matthews-"

“Call me Mike,” he interrupts with a smile he probably finds charming. 

“Ok. So, Mark-"

The smile turns stiff.  “Mike.” 

“Oh, my apologies. I need to ship something, Mike.” 

“That isn't a strange request. We are a shipping company after all.”

“Yes, well I've heard that Torque is quite good at moving and storing items of a more  _ sensitive  _  nature.” 

“Oh! Oh, yes. We are very discreet. We have-" you lean forward, letting your dress gape at the front. “We, er, have two, no! No,  _ one  _ storage facility for more sensitive shipments.” 

“Two? You said two first, Mr. Matthews. I do not like to be cheated or given second rate service.”

“I was, um, mistaken?” he stammers as you play with your necklace. 

“Here's the deal. Crown is willing to pay a lot of money to move these goods. I need you to be honest with me.” 

He hasn't looked at your face in almost two minutes. “We-we do have another facility. It's further outside the city. In the suburbs. It's only used by one of our clients.”

“Can I do a tour of the facilities to make sure they're up to par?” You sit up but his eyes don't move. Sleazebag. You need to find Jane a new job.

“No. I'm sorry. Confidentiality stuff.”

Looks like you'll need to pay the office a visit after hours. Or get the information from Mike. Slowly. And preferably painfully.

“That's fine.” 

You end the meeting, leaving the rest of your questions for later. You don't wait for Mike to move, leaving the office before he's shifted in his seat. You smile at Jane as you leave. Maybe you'll email her some job opportunities away from Torque. 

When you get back to your apartment, you try to dig up the addresses of all properties Torque owns. You don't find anything. The rest of your day is spent building a machine that will hopefully mess with Kara’s super hearing enough that you'll be able to sneak out at night without alerting her. It's more or less a high powered white noise machine. In theory, Kara will hear static if she focuses her hearing on your apartment. It should be enough. 

Once the city quiets, you slip out your window and disappear into the night. You don't head to Mike's apartment. It would be too easy to connect your questions as CFO to those of a shady assassin. You need to wait a few days. Instead, you move through the city patrolling for small crimes. You end up pinning a few men to alley walls as a punishment. You kill a few more. In your mind, it's a pretty successful night. 

Over the next few days, you find yourself spending more time with Kara. Now that you're apparently friends, she invites you over for inane things like movie nights or game nights. It's so  _ average  _ and  _ normal  _ for someone who is as powerful as Kara. 

Once you decide that enough time has passed between Lena Jones's visit to Mike, you head to his apartment, dressed in your assassin blacks. 

He lives on the other side of the city. In a nicer apartment than your own. He's watching some sort of sports game when you burst through the window. He lets out a high pitched scream as glass shatters across the floor, curling into a ball in the middle of his couch. You roll your eyes and stalk forward. 

“You have information I need. You work for Cadmus,” you say, pitching your voice lower. “I have questions about them.”

Taking the front of his shirt, you drag him to his feet,  lifting enough that his feet barely brush the ground. 

“I'll tell you anything,” he sobs. 

“Yes. You will.” You'll make sure of it. 

After you're  _ done _ with Mike, you head to the Torque offices. You need to verify the information Mike had kindly handed over. The roof has an easy access point into the building. You just need to hack the electric lock. The code ends up being 1234. Based on your experiences with Mike and this code, you're starting to think everyone who works in this building is an idiot. 

Tossing Mike's office, you're unsurprised to find nothing helpful. You straighten the room but doodle a little dragon on a notepad on the desk. You want Mike to know you've been here. Once he recovers, of course. 

You're halfway home when the custom display on your bike lights up with an alert. Someone's at your door. The small camera ...you installed at the top of the door shows Kara slumped against the wood. It's almost three am. What is she doing up?

You park your bike and duck behind it, pulling off your uniform to reveal the sports bra and exercise shorts you wear under it. You'd like to have a shirt, but you didn't exactly plan on stripping in an alleyway. 

Walking down the hall towards your door, you act surprised to see Kara. “Kara? What are you doing up?” 

“Can't sleep.” 

You notice how drawn she looks, how worn. Suddenly, you remember a conversation you overheard earlier. There had been a fire in an apartment complex. Supergirl couldn't save everyone. 

Comfort. Kara needs to be comforted. Great. Thinking quickly, you make a three step plan. You can do this. 

Step one.  “Get up. The floor’s not doing you any good. Come inside.” Get her into your apartment. 

You lead her to the couch, put a blanket around her shoulders. Step two: get her comfortable. 

Moving to the kitchen, you stay boiling water for tea. Step three: give her a hot drink. Distressed people like those. You think. Hopefully. 

“Why didn't you go to Alex?” you pause. “Not- not that I mind you being here. It's just… she's your sister. And I just recently stopped being an asshole to you.” Also you have no clue how to handle this situation. 

“She's busy. Her girlfriend's daughter had a school trip out of the city and she's a chaperone. I don't want her to have to leave just to comfort me.” 

The sentiment is sweet but, “Kara, I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I'm glad you're here, though.”

You finish the tea. Kara's pretty much in the same place you left her, except she's tipped over and curled into the cushions. There's nothing super about her in this moment. She's just a woman in mourning. You marvel at her capacity to feel, at how she feels every loss as though they were someone she knew. 

“I've made you tea,” you declare, setting the mug on the coffee table. 

You sit next to her on the couch, just close enough for her to feel your presence. “What happened?” 

You know what happened. Thinking about the fire triggers a memory. Flames lick at your sides, harsh and biting until you can't feel anything at all. You rob the scars on your hips and almost miss her answer. 

“I have this recurring nightmare. It's been a while, so it freaked me out I guess.”

It sounds like what it is, an excuse, a lie. You accept it anyways. 

“I'm sorry. “ You really don't know the protocol for this situation. “What does Alex normally do?” 

“We cuddle and she talks until I'm distracted.” 

You are  _ not  _ cuddling with this woman. 

“I can offer a brief hug and a sarcastic comment?”

Kara lets out a strangled giggle and sits up. You ignore the way she doesn't use her arms and instead floats upright. 

“That hug sounds nice.” 

She leans into you and you wrap your arms around get. You know she's Supergirl, but the physique you feel under her clothes is just unfair. 

Kara pulled away and forces a smile. “Thanks, Lena. I've intruded enough. I should go.”

She's so  _ sad. _

“Do you want to stay the night?” Why the fuck are you offering? “You can take my bed, I'll sleep on the couch.” 

“No, I couldn't take your bed, Lena.” 

“I insist.” No you don't! Take the fucking out she's giving you. “I'd feel better if you stayed.” Fuck.

“Fine. But I'll take the couch.”

“No you won't.” 

She lets you pull her off the couch. You lead her to your bedroom and take out clothes for her. 

“Here. You can change in here, I'll be getting ready in the bathroom.” 

“I'm already in pajamas.”

“Yes, well they smell like smoke and sweat and I'd rather not have that in my bed. Plus, my clothes are comfortable.” You wink at her and retreat to your bathroom. 

Kara's dressed when you emerge. You didn't really consider the size difference between the two of you. The sweatpants are tight around her thighs and end halfway down her calves, the elastic sticking around the muscle there. Your shirt stretches across her broad shoulders, molding to every muscle. If this ever happens again, you're giving her the baggiest clothing you own. 

“I set up a toothbrush on the sink. Just in case. If you want it. Not that I'm saying you need it. Um. Okay. Goodnight.” 

You  ~~flee~~ ~~run~~ walk calmly to you couch and plop onto it. Your phone flashes. 

Sara: how're things?

Made progress?

How's ur girl

Lena: some progress.

What girl?

Sara: some would say

your girl is…

Lena: don't

Sara: pretty super 

Lena: fuck you. 

She's not my girl

Sara: sure. How's that going?

Lena: ...shes sleeping over

Sara: damn, working fast

I see

Lena: she was having a problem

So I let her sleep over

Sara: she came to you

for help?

Gay.

Lena: good night sara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you've just gotta end with some Sara Lance wisdom
> 
> Tell me what you thought!


	5. Breakfast of Champions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supercorp breakfast and Nyssara ridiculousness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back...again. whoops. at least it wasn't a year this time?

A loud clanging, like something’s been dropped, wakes you up. You bolt upright, moving too much on the narrow couch and falling to the ground. Reaching out, you grasp at the throwing knife you have strapped under the couch as you peer over the back of it. Kara’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She’s coated in flour and looks adorably guilty.

“Oh no. You’re awake. I was trying to be quiet but I knocked over a bowl!”

Absently, you wonder if just moments before Kara had been floating around your kitchen. “It’s...fine,” you say, your voice gravelly and rough. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast. I had to grab most of the ingredients from my apartment, but I made pancakes.” She shuffles in place. “You should go shopping. For like food. Food is important.”

Her concern is almost cute. You slip the knife back into place and stand. Kara’s eyes go wide and her face turns bright red. Her eyes dart up and down your torso. You glance down in confusion. Is there something on you? Oh. You never changed last night. You’re still in your shorts and sports bra. You never thought Supergirl would be a prude, but the flustered expression and red cheeks suggest she is. Not wanting her to be uncomfortable, you go to your bedroom.

“I’m going to get changed,” you call over your shoulder.

“Oh...okay.” A second later, the sounds of cooking resume.

You pull on leggings and a soft cream off the shoulder sweater. Kara is still blushing when you go back to the kitchen. It gets worse as she takes in your outfit, so you figure she must be warm from cooking.

The counters and island are piled high with food. There’s more than just pancakes, although there is a small mountain of them, sitting on the island like a centerpiece. The pancakes are joined by what looks to be two pounds of bacon, along with fruit salad and eggs. It’s way too much food for two people. Either Kara eats for three people or the both of you will be eating breakfast foods for the next two days.

You sit on the stools at the kitchen island, pulling the bowl of fruit towards you. Picking at the sweet morsels, you watch Kara move around your kitchen. She’s flipping pancakes and stirring some sort of berry reduction sauce. She must have a song stuck in her head, because she wiggles in place as she works. You like that she’s comfortable enough to cook in your apartment. The both of you usually hang out at your place, and it’s nice to see that she is just as comfortable in your home as you are in hers.

She’s your friend. You freeze, a strawberry held halfway to your mouth. You fell for it. You fell for the damn sweet and innocent act and now you _care_ about Kara. like you care about Sara and Nyssa. If Sara finds out, she’ll never let you live it down.

Kara looks back at you and must see the shell shocked look on your face, because she asks, “Is the food too much? It’s too much isn’t it. I should have asked before cooking.”

You shake out of your spiralling ‘I like Kara’ thoughts to answer her. “It’s perfect, Kara. I was thinking about work. Let’s eat.”

You’ll freak out about being...friends with Kara later. Or maybe never.

“I’ll make you a plate.”

Kara leaps into motion, piling food onto a plate. You giggle at the amount of food she manages to fit.

“I’m not going to be able to eat all that, you know,” you say.

Kara shrugs, placing the plate on the island in front of you. “More for me then.”

She piles her plate even higher and sits on the stool next to you. Her shoulder bumps against yours, even though there should be enough space for you not to touch. She’s so _broad._ You can see it when she’s dressed in that ridiculous supersuit, but her everyday clothes hide her impressive build somehow. You had been ignoring the way your flimsy t-shirt showed off her muscles, but with her shoulder pressed against yours, you can’t exactly pretend like you don’t see, _feel,_ the muscles there. You need to stop thinking about this.

“First one to finish their plate gets to choose lunch,” you blurt out. Now you want to hang with her until lunch? Damn those muscles.

“You’re on.”

Kara’s halfway through her plate by the time you’ve finished one pancake. You’re not rushing, knowing there’s no way in hell you’d be able to beat her. She’s onto second as you finish your bacon. Neither of you talk. You sit in a hazy silence while Kara makes happy noises and works her way through the majority of the food.

“God I’m full,” you say, pushing your plate away from you. It still has three pancakes, four strips of bacon, and a pile of scrambled eggs on it.

“You barely touched your food!”

“Not everyone has your impressive appetite, Kara. It was delicious, but I can’t eat another bite. What do you want for lunch?”

“Chinese! We could watch a movie until then? Or we could go for a walk; I know this really nice park not far from here.” She’s bouncing in her seat, pent up energy pouring off her.

“A walk sounds-” your phone rings, cutting you off.

You’re not expecting a call. You give Kara a puzzled glance and move to where you’ve plugged in your phone. It’s Nyssa. Your eyes widen. Of course, your check in call is today.

“I have to take this,” you say. “It’s work. How about you text me the address of the Chinese place and we meet there around 1? I should be done with this by then.”

“Sounds good. Do you want me to stick around and clean this up?”

You shake your head and answer the call. “Lena Jones speaking,” you put on a professional voice. The fake name, and the fact that you did not acknowledge Nyssa’s title in your greeting, will tell Nyssa you aren’t alone.

“Good morning, Lena. I hope everything is well. Please go somewhere we can talk freely.” You listen, watching as Kara waves and walks out the door.

“Of course. Give me another minute to organize my files.” You walk to your white noise machine and switch it on, in case Kara decides to listen in at the door. “I am free to speak. My apologies, Nyssa, for not being prepared. I had an unexpected visitor last night.”

“Yes, Sara told me all about that.” You can hear a smile in her voice, and, for a moment, she’s Nyssa your friend, not Nyssa Al Ghul. The moment passes. “What progress have you made towards destroying the head of the serpent?”

“I have found two of Cadmus' bases. Searching those should give me clues to where I will find Lillian.”

“Good. I assume, from last night’s events, that befriending the Girl of Steel is going well?”

“Yes. I have managed to gain her trust. She does not suspect that I am anyone other than who I say I am.” You don't mention that you  _care_ about Kara now.

“Keep it that way. The last thing we need is a Super interfering with League business. Having to deal with Batman and his entourage of children is bad enough already. Get this done quickly, but do not rush. It needs to be a clean kill, else we risk Cadmus and the DEO turning their attention to us.”

“Understood. Is there anything else I should be aware of?”

“Not about this job.” She pauses. “Sara just walked in. She keeps mouthing 'gay' at me and tracing that confounded S the supers wear into the air. I think it’s a message for you.”

“I’m going to kill her,” you hiss, faux annoyed.

Nyssa chuckles, and you can just hear Sara join in. You miss them. “Just for that? I’m sure she’s done much worse to you.”

“Oh this has been building for a while. Did she tell you about how she _decorated_ my apartment?” You smile at the memory.

“I don’t think she has. Care to share?”

“She left enough dildos in my apartment to make me look like a collector. Or like I’m very picky. A Goldilocks of dildos. I tried one after another until I found one that’s _juuust_ right.” You can barely get the last sentence out past your laughter. Nyssa and Sara are laughing too; you assume you’re on speaker.

“How many did she leave?” Nyssa asks, gasping for air.

“Twenty,” you say. At the same time, Sara says, “Twenty-two."

There’s a pause as you both digest the other’s answer.

“Um,” Sara says, as Nyssa laughs so hard she snorts.

“There’s two I haven’t found?” you exclaim.

“No?”

“See, Nyssa. This is why I’m going to murder your girlfriend.” They’re both laughing too hard to reply. “I’ll talk to you guys later. I have dildos to hunt for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find myself wanting to write from Kara's POV sometimes...oh well. Next chapter will be Supercorp lunch and a walk in the park? maybe? idk things just happen in this fic who knows what i'll do next
> 
> Tell me what you thought about this chapter!


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